


Two For One

by Ourliazo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (but in a nice way to make them good people), But He's Still Pretty Dense, Conditioning and Indoctrination, Death Is A Dick To Harry, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harry Is Less Oblivious Than People Think, M/M, Maybe slash later, Possessive Gellert Grindelwald, Possessive Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourliazo/pseuds/Ourliazo
Summary: Harry thinks to himself; why the f-ck not? So he picks up a little Tom Riddle and tries to indoctrinate the boy into following a Gryffindor approved set of morals. He grabs Gellert Grindelwald too because if he f-cks up with one, he still has another try.(Poor Harry never does quite understand that he's not the one pulling the strings.)





	1. Chapter 1

When Harry first meets him, the entity has blond hair and looks like a man in his late thirties to mid-forties with no obvious sign of disease. Death doesn't wear a stereotypical robe either, in fact he dresses in a rather smart suit with polished leather shoes and a Rolex wrist watch. His face doesn't look terrifying at all, watching Harry's reaction with an apathetic, if not bored expression.

And what a reaction it is. Harry had just been poisoned at a private dinner party with friends and had woken up with the intimidating man looming over him.

The poor Chosen One promptly chucks a hissy fit because he killed Voldemort a little over a year ago and recognises King's Cross from his brief stint being dead.

It's explained that as soon as Harry had the wand's allegiance, the cloak's powers at hand and the snitch with the ring scoured away within, he became Master of Death, no matter that he didn't have all three items in skin contact.

Death reassures him in a drawl that as soon as some other creature gets all three, Harry is free from the title. Harry tries very hard not to break down in tears, thinking back to dropping the ring in the dirt and snapping the wand before tossing the pieces into the river.

Death laughs, the bastard.

Harry then asks if he can go back to life, because being Master over death should give him some perks, right?

That results in a firm no. Harry has a choice in moving elsewhere or dying. The wizard thinks that's a stupid ultimatum because if he can go somewhere else, why can't he just go back to England?

He sighs and picks France.

That isn't what Death means. The being means a different reality; like dimension, universe, whatever.

That makes even  _less_  sense to Harry. So Death can fuck around with dimensions but he can't put Harry's soul  _back into_   _his damn body_?

Harry is then informed that time moves differently and since it has been approximately three months since the poisoning, his body has already been burned. 'Cremated' being the word.

Harry has enough and tells Death to fuck off.

An hour later, when Harry stops screaming at Death whenever he comes too close, Death repeats his earlier question.

Somewhere else or death-death?

Harry choses complete death, and he's warned there is no afterlife. After a pointed look around, Death catches on and explains that because the wizard is technically Master he gets additional 'In-betweens', but there is no Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory. When you die, you just die.

Harry cuts in with a stunned question about the origin of ghosts. Death tells him they're echoes and memories of people, much like portraits. So, after a long philosophical debate about death and to Death, Harry takes a moment to contemplate what he would like 'elsewhere' to be.

To be completely clear; it isn't a gift that Death is giving Harry, nor is it a right that he has as Master of Death.

No, this second chance is a punishment for Harry thinking that he can be happy and normal with the love of his life and surrounded by friends.

That's fine, though, it's perfectly fine.

Harry has always been the sacrifice. His destiny was to kill himself, no matter the fact that he was then revived. He walked to his death as an eighteen-year-old boy, fully conscious that this was the end for him, expecting to never see his friends again.

That kind of thing changed people.

Quite frankly, Harry stopped giving a fuck.

After everything was over, he decided that he did his duty, and now he got to do whatever he wanted and no one had any say in his decisions. There were trials for the Death Eaters of course and the public kept ambushing him as well as the Voldemort supporters still kicking.

Harry dealt with it calmly by locking himself away in a re-hidden Potter Cottage. Most of Harry's time was split between a Hermione-enforced education plan or spent wondering how he survived.

Not regarding the killing curse at the end there, since he could safely file away that under 'because magic', but regarding how fearsome Voldemort was. The man was fully immortal most of the time there, and from the brief flashes of Tom Riddle's childhood he had a huge amount of control over his magic and a deeply intelligent mind.

It begs the question; how the hell did Voldemort lose?

Not even just to Harry, but right at the start, before the prophecy, how was the man not even close to being ruler over wizarding Britain? With that much power at his fingers how could he not be more terrifying than Grindelwald?

Harry asked Hermione one quiet day and she explained how Dark Arts could twist a person, affect their mind as well as body and unmake them.

He thought it a disappointment, because quite frankly Tom Marvolo Riddle was both great and terrible, but what could this world be if he was simply great? What would have happened if all the dark witches and wizards were still just as prevalent in the history books but they strived to help instead of hinder?

Would Harry's parents still be alive? Would he have had a better life? How many people would be happier if such a change could occur?

Those questions were angsty little musings back when Harry was alive, just simple 'what-if's that stole his focus and directed his day dreaming. Nothing could be done, Harry knew, he was just lingering. He had a good life, there was no need to change things now and be greedy.

Well… except here's Harry with the multiverse at his feet, and there's Death with the sick sense of humour. It shouldn't take too long to convince the being to play along, right?

Death looks kind of bored anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there is the incredibly, painfully clichéd beginning of my time-travel story. I am deeply sorry you had to read that, but I think I would like to write tiny!Tom Riddle and tiny!Gellert Grindelwald, so the prologue is necessary.
> 
> The rest of this story is probably going to be just as bad, so don't get your hopes up.


	2. Chapter 2

Death, Harry has discovered, is kind of an asshole.

The strange being is currently standing behind the Aurors who are trying to threaten Harry into revealing how he came to be in this universe. Harry is chained to a chair with bad-Auror spitting out accusations into his face and good-Auror pretending to try and pull them back.

"I keep telling you, I don't know," Harry tells them, shifting on the uncomfortable metal chair and turning his wrists in the cuffs holding him to the table.

The Sneakoscope near the edge of the table is stationary and silent, because Harry is telling the truth. He has no idea what happened in between his final choice at King's Cross and arriving randomly in the Ministry.

Right into the interrogation cell he's sitting in, actually. Completely naked.

Thankfully, the Aurors scrambled to find him some clothes first, and Harry is now clad in a loose shirt, pants and robe. Everything else they just conjured for him.

"I find that highly unlikely," one of the Aurors snaps out.

Death tilts what vaguely passes for a head and from under the hood of its robe it opens gaping maws of bone, flaking flesh and dried blood. The ghastly mouth forms words even as skin peels and drops off.

"Do you wish him dead, Master?" Death rasps, near enough to a hiss that Harry isn't sure if it's speaking in Parseltongue.

Before Harry can answer, the interrogation room's door slams open and a cloaked figure strides inside, slaps a folded piece of paper into the Auror's chest and moves around the table to start unlocking Harry's handcuffs.

The Auror splutters, barely managing to catch the note before it falls to the floor, and starts trying to read the ridiculously convoluted and hard to decipher instructions by the Head of the Unspeakables. The other Auror tries to read over their partner's shoulder but gives up.

Meanwhile, Harry would actually prefer to stay with the Aurors but is yanked up by a strong grip on his upper arm and forcefully marched out of the room and into the hallway.

Death waves goodbye.

Harry ducks a flock of paper crane-notes and weaves around teetering piles of paperwork carried by frazzled-looking wizards and witches who are so done with paperwork that can't be charmed.

The sound of a rowdy and overworked Ministry is cut off when the Unspeakable taps a blank wall with their wand and then calmly shoves Harry through. He stumbles, only held up by the grip on his arm, and blinks at the ominous hallway that stretches out before him.

"Um," Harry tries.

The Unspeakable just keeps walking. They pass through three more blank walls, one door, two windows and half a potted plant.

"Okay, now you're messing with me," Harry snaps when they stop in front of a drunk who seems to have passed out in the corner, a few empty bottles scattered around him.

The Unspeakable just drags Harry forward into the drunk and they plummet for what feels like minutes. An  _Arresto Momentum_ catches them and they lightly drop to the ground. Harry looks around at a large and suspiciously blank office. Only a table and two chairs, one already occupied with another cloaked figure.

"Welcome," a rasping voice hisses. A couple coughs come, and then, "Fuck, my throat."

"Want me to get you a drink?" Harry's first Unspeakable offers.

"Yeah, thanks mate," the new one sighs. "Merlin, shouldn't have come in today. I even have a note from my medi-wizard, but no, we have a traveller."

The first Unspeakable nods and leaves the room. Through the ceiling.

"Have a seat," the Unspeakable offers, gesturing vaguely at the chair. "Don't worry if it gropes you."

Harry pauses, half lowered, and simply decides to stand. "Look, it wasn't actually a decision I had a choice in-"

"Don't care," the Unspeakable deadpans, leaning forward and lacing their hands on the table. "What are the numbers for the Wizarding Wow Lotto?"

"…What?"

The Unspeakable sighs long-sufferingly. "I get like three of you a year and no one ever knows the numbers."

"Maybe they just don't want to tell you," Harry offers in annoyance. "I mean you did make them do that ridiculous obstacle course."

"You didn't think it was fun?" the Unspeakable asks, a wobble to their voice. "I- I think it's fun."

Harry quickly backtracks, holding up his hands as if to physically stop any possible tears. "No, no, it was awesome. I simply wasn't expecting it, and I like just died, so I'm kind of having a bad day."

"It's okay," the Unspeakable says. "I get it, you must be pretty tired. Have a seat," they offer.

Harry sits before he remembers the groping part and immediately jumps up when something tries to touch his no-no area.

The Unspeakable snickers.

"That is a damn sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen," Harry snaps, jabbing a finger at the chair.

The cloaked figure shrugs. "Dave got stuck inside and that's the only joy he gets. I mean we're working on getting him out, but in the meantime, he's slowly starving to death."

Harry slides a glance sideways and Death abruptly materialises, nods, and disappears. Harry frowns and hesitantly reaches down to pet the seat. "Sorry, Dave," he murmurs.

"So anyway," the Unspeakable begins. "Here are some rules." They reach under the desk and then drop a book on the table, the text thick enough to kill someone with. Another much smaller folder is placed on top. "We also have identities premade, so no, you can't be Mr. Hoe McFucker."

"Has anyone asked for that name?" Harry wonders, reaching forward and flipping open the folder.

"You'd be surprised," the Unspeakable admits.


	3. Chapter 3

"But still," Harry says, flipping through the files until he can find the birth certificate. "No one would pick the name Hoe McFucker."

The Unspeakable shrugs. "It is fun to say though. We also have idiots who want names that can be expressly connected to their actual identity, which is the exact opposite of what a fake name should be. Seriously, some just take their mother's maiden name, it's ridiculous." They wave a hand at the folder Harry is holding. "Anyway, we pick the most normal names we can think of."

Harry just stares down at the birth certificate.

"We can change the date of birth to fit you better," the Unspeakable adds on. "Is there anything inside that you have a particular dislike for?"

Harry purses his lips. "My new name is… Harry Potter."

"Yep," the Unspeakable says cheerfully. "I know like sixteen Harrys and eight Potters, no one is going to look at you twice."

"My…" Harry pauses, unsure if he should actually reveal the information. "My, uh, real name is…"

"Oh," the Unspeakable says slowly in realisation and then shrugs. "Well I guess it was bound to happen sometime. Here, I'll get another one."

They duck under the table and Harry hears footsteps and a door opening.

"Shit, wait, it's upstairs," the Unspeakable mutters.

Harry hears more footsteps that get fainter. He can't resist and leans over the desk to peek, finding an open drawer that leads down to a very messy library. He quickly straightens up when the footsteps get louder.

The Unspeakable pops back up and passes over another folder, accepting the Harry Potter one and calmly burning it. "How's this one?"

Harry takes a deep breath. "Are you doing this deliberately? Because I can't be Thomas Riddle either."

The Unspeakable doesn't move but Harry physically feels the bitch face behind the blurring spells on the other person. "Are you serious?" the Unspeakable complains. "What, is Thomas Riddle your cousin? Is there like a self-help group for people with disgustingly common names?"

"Oi," Harry snaps. "I bet your name isn't much better."

"My name is badass, thank you very much." The Unspeakable lets out an annoyed sigh. "Fine, let's make you one." They reach over and snatch the folder back. "You can keep your first name, give me an age, I'm picking your parents."

Harry shrugs, unsure. "Twenty."

"Don't make it too easy for me," the Ministry worker drawls and gropes around a drawer for a quill before hunching back over the paper. "You're now twenty-three, your dad is James-"

"Um-"

"For Merlin's sake," the Unspeakable cries and vanishes the ink with an irritated flick of their wand. "Dad is Jake, mum is Alessia, you're Harry Corvidae, twenty-three, a pain in my ass."

"Is there a place to write 'Master of Death'?" Harry snarks.

The Unspeakable scoffs. "Yeah, and I'll just change mine to say Master of Sea Shells."

Harry rolls his eyes.

"There," the Unspeakable sighs in relief. They make a copy to keep with the Ministry and pass over the original birth certificate. "Now, living arrangements are inside the folder as well, plus a key to a private vault in Gringotts. Don't go crazy with the spending, okay? There's a budget I need to adhere to."

Harry smiles. "Wow, um, I really thought I would have a more difficult time of things. Thank y-"

"Don't bother," the Unspeakable interrupts. "I'm only doing this so I can keep an eye on you. Random house visits every week and we track your spending." The hooded figure spreads their arms wide, invitingly. "I own you."

Harry blinks, taken aback.

"Also, you're obliged to come in whenever we need you, to do some tests." The Unspeakable shrugs. "You can do pretty much anything you want though, so it's not all bad."

"…Anything?" Harry says slowly.

"Anything. You are above the law. You are technically considered property of the Unspeakables so if you get into shit we deal with the consequences."

"That sounds a bit lackadaisical…" Harry begins. "I mean, I'm liking it, but it's also not the best way to go about things."

"There's something you should know," the Unspeakable admits. "I don't give a fuck about anything except for my research. As long as you come in and do whatever I want you to, you can raise a Dark Lord for all I care."

"Is that a figure of speech?" Harry asks hesitantly.

The Unspeakable pauses, incredulous. "Why would I mean that literally? Who would ever consider that a good idea? Anyone not on drugs, I should add. I mean you could, but… but  _why_?"

Harry laughs nervously. "Yeah, that – that would be stupid."

The Unspeakable sighs heavily. "You're going to be a difficult one, aren't you?"

* * *

Harry steps into the pre-selected house and peers around. It's a three bedroom with a nice kitchen and the bare necessities of furniture are already set up. It's really good for a house in nineteen-thirty.

"Nice," Harry murmurs and turns to take it all in. He bumps into a surprise-Death instead and barely stifles a curse as he jumps back, dropping the thick book of rules and the folder that the Unspeakable gave him.

Death, currently three meters tall, looms over Harry with his cloak of shadows, glowing red eyes and sharp, sharp teeth.

"Why?!" Harry screams, flailing his arms. "Why is this necessary? Don't you have  _anything_  better to do?"

Death shrugs.

Harry facepalms and then calms himself with a few deep breaths. He peers up at Death and crosses his arms. "So, Death, do you know how we're going to go about this?"

"We?" Death asks sceptically.

"It's a team effort," Harry explains jokingly.

"It's really not."

"…"

"…"

Harry sighs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussion of canon assault.

Death vanishes after the moment of silence, clearly bored with Harry's pathetic attempt at humour. Harry frowns because he didn't even get a goodbye.

"I'm going to take a nap, then think about this with a clearer head," Harry murmurs to himself.

He kicks off his shoes, shifts the information off the floor and onto the kitchen bench before wandering up the steps and face planting into the bed. He wriggles around, peeling off his borrowed robe, but leaves the rest of his clothes on. It's a short nap and then he'll get anything else the house needs from a mixture of muggle stores and Diagon.

He pauses when something pokes him as he bundles up the robe, ready to throw it onto the end of the bed. Harry flips onto his back and searches through it, confused. He appeared in this world with literally nothing so whoever leant him the robe probably left something-

Harry pulls out the elder wand.

Then a ring falls out and onto his face, immediately followed by an invisibility cloak. Harry throws the robe away so he can rip off the cloak. He sits up and looks around for the ring that bounced off his nose, finding it on the pillow.

Harry just takes a moment to stare.

Well, he thought it would be a lot more difficult to get rid to Death, but apparently Fate loves him.

* * *

Somewhere, long ago or perhaps in the distant future, laughter can be heard.

* * *

Harry glances around. "Um, Death?"

The being appears out of thin air and spots the three trinkets. "No, someone else has to get your original three. These are this world's Hallows." And then he calmly disappears again because he does actually have things to do.

Harry groans and collapses back into the bed. He doesn't even know what the Hallows are used for. Sure, he gets In-betweens, but is there really nothing else if he combines them? Technically the items by themselves are more than amazing, but Harry would just really like to go home right now.

He sighs and tucks the three into a bedside drawer before rolling onto his side and trying to sleep. Unfortunately, despite how tired he is, his mind doesn't shut off.

How is he even going to do this? He decided on a whim, when he was still reeling from dying and losing everyone he knew. Of course he clung to the idea of a better world, of course he wanted to fix everything.

So now he's here, nineteen-thirty, apparently owned by the Unspeakables. To be fair, it isn't so bad. He doesn't have to deal with struggling to get money, or anyone trying to kill him, but he does have to deal with the fact that his conscience won't let him rest until Tom Riddle is a good person.

It shouldn't be too hard, though, kind of like teaching the alphabet to a child;  _this is what you do, this is what you don't do. Try and do this. This is the result you want._

_Good boy._

So Harry has a plan, technically, to teach young and hope that the habits stick as Tom grows. If Harry is very lucky, Voldemort won't happen. If the Dark Lord does come, then hopefully he's fighting for the right things.

Harry won't deny that sometimes force is the most efficient route, especially in the Ministry where power makes you heard, but killing everyone is so far past horrific that-

No, Harry can't think like that. It's pointless to describe things with emotion because feelings are so flimsy and easily changed or ignored depending on culture and time and personal opinion. Harry needs to do this logically because someone as intelligent as Tom will respond to hard facts.

_No, Tom, killing everyone is wasteful. It's pointless because you might need them someday, even if to just fill in paperwork at the lowest level of the Ministry. The magical population is already so small._

It would probably be best if Harry led Tom through the formative years, the baby ages, but Harry doesn't think he can deal with a baby. Harry picked nineteen-thirty because Tom is young enough to form naïve attachments but old enough that Harry can actively start guiding him instead of waiting.

Harry kind of wishes he picked an earlier time, though.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is a genius. Everyone knows that, and this entire time travel adventure is based on raising the boy to do good and help people, because if someone like Tom puts his mind to it then the wizarding world will enter a golden age of prosperity, whether it wants to or not.

So, there are some very good points as to why Harry picked the time he has but he kind of wants to say no and show up when Tom Riddle sr. meets Merope.

Ron, when he heard the tale, thought both parents of Tom were wrong with what they did. Hermione picked Merope, or at least she felt pity for the woman who tried so hard to keep her son alive despite the horror she faced at home and trying to live on the streets.

Harry can see both perspectives fine, and they both have logical reasons for why they've decided that way. Harry thinks that both parents are victims; Merope due to her family and the desperate, unrequited love that she thought would save her.

Yet he holds more empathy for Tom Riddle sr. For the man who had no choice in his life, who was drugged constantly and sexually assaulted and faced disdain from the townspeople. Harry doesn't blame the man for running when he had the chance, anyone else sure as hell would have too.

Hermione and Ron both think Riddle sr. should have stayed since Merope was pregnant. Maybe Harry would have but he's always been the self-sacrificing sort and any family he has is something to hold onto desperately.

However, in that situation, most people wouldn't care about the child. It's not because they're bad people, it's because they've just been through a horrific experience where they couldn't even trust their own mind. They shouldn't have to stay with their torturer, no matter if there's a child or not.

Logic dictates that Harry picked the right time for the result he wants, but he still feels bad about not going further back and stopping Tom's birth completely, helping Riddle sr.

Maybe one day he'll learn to shut off his 'saving people' thing.

Harry falls asleep without noticing and dreams of a broken woman carving out a man's heart so she can crawl inside and pretend she's whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think about the Merope and Riddle sr. debate? Most fics I've read hate on Riddle and treat Merope like a person to be pitied. She may not be the worst villain but she's not an innocent either.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry wakes up in the afternoon and does a circuit of the house to know what he needs to get.

The top floor is three bedrooms, only one having any furniture. The one Harry slept in has a bed and a side table. All three have inbuilt closets and wide curtain-covered windows. Also on the upper floor is a bathroom and a room filled with a large desk and chair, presumably a study.

Downstairs, there's a kitchen at the back with a few items of cutlery and a bench that reaches out to the middle of the room, which Harry's just going to use as a dinner table since there are already chairs set out underneath it.

Another bathroom splits the kitchen and the living room which has a three-seater couch coupled with two singles, all arranged around a coffee table. For a second Harry wonders if he should buy a TV, but then remembers how far back in time he is.

Stretched out along the side of the house is a room filled with empty bookcases and Harry labels that one a library and wonders if he can be bothered to buy enough books to fill the shelves. He walks around and pauses, finding that one shelf is filled with Ministry issued rules plus random research journals on time travelling.

Harry decides to just go with the time theory and not explain he went diagonal instead of just backwards. There's also a folder at the end, filled with pages upon pages of questions. The note written on the front reads;  _It would save us both time if you completed this at home and just brought it in later when I call you._

Harry frowns at the thick folder and vaguely plans to look at it again later, the procrastinator inside him flaring up big time.

Then he heads out to buy the necessities. He does a quick food and clothes run, mentally thanking the Unspeakable for having furniture in the house so Harry doesn't have to deal with it.

Then he spends about an hour hovering outside Ollivander's shop, trying in turns to talk himself out of and then into buying his holly wand again. He eventually finds his body moving before his mind makes a decision.

He arrives home with pockets full of shrunken shopping plus one holly wand.

* * *

"Oh, how convenient," Harry says jokingly. "You only show up after I've put all the shopping away."

Death shrugs, now looking like a giant black vulture. "What are you making for dinner?" he asks boredly, perched (threateningly) on the kitchen bench.

Harry bites his lip and looks around, the cupboards and fridge still open, displaying he food he just packed away. "Maybe pierogi? The blueberry one is really nice and ice cream goes well with it."

"It'll still be better than what I can do."

Harry hums, already collecting the ingredients and shutting doors as he goes. "Cooking isn't exactly difficult, you just have to get used to it."

"No, I mean I kill everything I touch," Death clarifies. "Food rots if I handle it."

Harry blinks, arms full of ingredients. "Please don't come near me. Ever."

Death smirks.

Harry is one hundred percent certain he's going to have nightmares about vultures smirking.

* * *

Harry collapses onto the couch with a groan. "I ate too much. Death, help."

Death raises an eyebrow, now resting on the back of a couch. "Asking for a mercy killing already? I honestly thought you'd last longer."

"Really?" Harry asks, a bit touched at the thought of Death having faith in his ability to last for more than a day and a half.

"No."

Harry sighs but he honestly expected that. He flops sideways across the three-seater couch. "I think I'm going to visit Tom tomorrow, see what his personality is like."

There's no point in trying to find a nice family if Harry doesn't know what Tom would want in a set of parents. It's going to be difficult to find a couple who wants to adopt because Harry can't exactly ask random people in the street if they want a slightly terrifying child.

Harry's going to aim to get Tom parents that are active in both the magical world and the muggle, preferably half-bloods, but Harry is also very sceptical that he's going to be able to be that picky.

His main goal is to just get Tom out of the orphanage, where he killed a bunny and hated absolutely everyone, and into a pleasant family who can focus their entire attention on the tiny Dark Lord and love him.

The problem with the orphanage is that the workers have so many children to look after and Tom needs extra care. Of course, Harry could leave him there and just try to train him but Tom might revert if he's left to his own devices.

So Harry will try to make friends with a prospective family and subtly slide in there that Tom is a really sweet child and so adorable _and wouldn't it be nice to have him as a son?_

The friendship with the couple will also help because Harry still has to condition the child into being a good person through lots and lots of carrot (because if he uses the stick, Tom will probably take it and stab Harry through the stomach).

Harry needs to be a known figure in the boy's life, an extra push to stay away from the bad decisions on top of also having loving parents. The 'loving' part is very important because links to other humans help people steer clear of genocidal thoughts.

Having a sister or brother would help, Harry thinks hesitantly. Maybe it'll become sibling rivalry but it's also another person for Tom to become close to and do children things with.

And, well, while Harry's indoctrinating one Dark Lord, he might as well add another, right? Kind of like a two-for-one special.

Yeah, that definitely sounds like a good idea that won't backfire in the end.

"I can sense your stupidity from over here," Death deadpans. "It's like a bad taste in the back of my throat."

"Don't you have puppies to kill?" Harry snaps back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments from last chapter were so interesting to read. I think I got some people riled up a bit, but I enjoyed reading your thoughts.
> 
> The two tiny Dark Lords will come into play soon, I promise. Chapter 7, if everything goes according to plan.


	6. Chapter 6

"Death," Harry murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. "Is there a way to bring someone forward in time?"

Death leans over the couch's backrest and peers down at Harry, his vulture form casting strange shadows. "Not with your petty magic, but my power is infinite."

Harry purses his lips. "What do you think about adding Grindelwald? It could backfire spectacularly, but I'm just wondering since the plan is still being set out…"

Death raises an eyebrow. "Whatever you wish."

Harry hums and Death fades from existence.

If Harry's getting two then they won't be the same age, Harry promises to himself, because if one ends up broken still, he'll focus on the other and hopefully they won't go rotten at the same time.

Though there is a problem with Grindelwald since the boy has an actual family. Hopefully they don't love him, because that would make Harry's life much more difficult. Either way, removing the boy from the environment he grew up to be Dark Lord in can only get better results, right?

Harry really should study child psychology before he does something irreversible. Most conditioning that he's planning is logical and simple; get the Dark Lords to love someone who loves them back, encourage helping others, promote all the good thoughts and ignore the bad until the bad hopefully dies under the good.

A knock at the door shakes Harry out of his thoughts and he sits up, wondering who it is. Honestly, his first instinct is to get his wand for defence, but he stifles it enough that he only pockets the wand instead of clutching it in his hand. There's no one in this time who wants to hurt him.

Harry unlocks and opens the door only to encounter a couple, maybe early thirties, who smile widely and offer up a plate of treacle tart. Well, Harry is certainly not going to say no to treacle tart.

"Hi!" the woman chirps. "We're your neighbours, just to the left. I'm Rachel."

"And I'm Bradley," the man chimes in before he holds up the plate a bit higher. "We've come with an offering of friendship."

The couple spend a moment easily laughing together at the words, their mannerisms a clear indication that they do this a lot. The woman threads an arm through the man's and they lean against each other with bright smiles.

Harry instantly decides that these people should be Tom's parents because they're cavity-causing sweet to each other. Not even Ron and Hermione, at their peak, were this bad.

"Come in," Harry says quickly, stepping back and holding the door open. "I'm Harry, just moved here from Surrey." He takes the plate and guides them to the living room where they take seats. "Does anyone want some tea, coffee?"

"Oh, no thanks," Rachel declines. "This is just a quick stop, we can't leave the house for too long."

Harry lights up. "Do you have kids at home?"

"No, no," Bradley chuckles. "We've just left a chicken in the oven." He glances over at Rachel with hearts in his eyes. "Though we have been thinking about a child for a while now."

"Are you going with adoption?" Harry slides in there, probably not as subtle as he thinks he is since he's just a bit too pumped for it not to show in his voice.

Rachel shrugs. "It is an option," she admits kindly, most likely not wanting to immediately shoot the idea down.

That's fine, Harry has a few years to convince them.

"Sorry, I think I came on a bit too strong," Harry says sheepishly. "I just kind of feel pretty passionate about adopting since I was an orphan."

Yes, Harry is playing the orphan card to manipulate them, and he has no shame.

"Goodness, that's awful," Bradley gasps. The couple immediately look at Harry with pity and Bradley not so subtly slides the treacle tart plate closer to try and comfort him.

"It wasn't so bad," Harry reassures them, lying through his teeth. The Dursleys were pretty shit. "I was adopted by a wonderful couple who loved me like their own son."

Rachel leans across and pats Harry on the arm. "They must be amazing people," she says fervently and even seems to tear up a little.

"They are," Harry states, thinking of Arthur and Molly instead. He wonders how everyone is doing now that Harry is gone. He hopes they're not sad, because even if Harry had properly died, he still went out surrounded by family. He honestly can't think of a better way to die.

"But enough about that," Harry says before the mood drops too low. "What's this neighbourhood like?"

"It's rather quiet," Bradley explains in a soft voice as if he'd startle Harry away if he spoke too loudly. "This is an aged area so most of the families have kids who are already adults."

"It's lovely here," Rachel takes over. "The park is gorgeous and there's the best bakery in the world just a five minute walk away."

Bradley nods enthusiastically, having bounced back from the orphan trap card. "When you have the time we can take you around on a tour; show you all the best spots and introduce you to the others."

"Sounds great." Harry smiles widely.

They even suggest a general date for it and start talking about the other families around here. Harry isn't doing it deliberately, but the information goes in one ear and straight out the other. He hopes there isn't a quiz at the end.

Harry also quickly realises that they both tend to keep talking if you let them, which is good for him because all of his cute stories about friends involve magic and life-threatening situations. So he slowly goes through the treacle tart, occasionally humming or nodding.

Bradley notices the time first and they say a panicked goodbye because the chicken is still in the oven. Harry waves them off and closes the door with a wide grin on his face.

This couple seems to have just stepped out of his imagination, already fully formed as the perfect neighbours and best candidates for Tom's parents. It's like the universe is throwing itself into making sure that Harry has the easiest time of things. Clearly, this is meant to be.

Everything is going perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is about to quickly go downhill.
> 
> Also, if you're confused about the whole couple thing, Harry never said he would personally take on Tom. This was the plan from the start.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry wakes up a bit dazed the next day but quickly snaps fully awake when there's a loud  _bang_  from downstairs, sounding like a door was slammed. Oh Merlin, what is Death doing down there? Harry trips out of bed and makes his way to the upstairs landing where he pauses.

A tiny Voldemort stares up at him, all pale skin and big brown eyes.

"What?" Harry asks no one in particular.

Death, back in his businessman skin, steps into view. "You're welcome," he says smugly.

Harry sucks in a breath. "Hey, um… Dave. Could we talk? Upstairs?  _Now._ "

Death raises an eyebrow at the name but makes his way past tiny Voldemort and up the stairs.

Harry manages a smile at the expressionless boy. "Just make yourself at home, this will only take a second."

Harry spins on a heel and rushes after Death, stopping himself from slamming the bedroom door shut after him, but he does end up casting seventeen different locking, hardening and silencing charms on the room itself.

"What?" Harry tries again.

"You wanted Tom Riddle," Death explains. It actually explains nothing.

"Yes," Harry says slowly, the panic creeping in. "Not now though. Years from now I wanted Tom Riddle. I wanted to put Tom Riddle into a nice family after he mellows out a bit in Hogwarts. I am not- nothing is prepared. This isn't the plan. I haven't even finished the plan yet. This is only me, saying my ideas out loud to you whenever they pop into my head."

Voldemort is downstairs. Child Voldemort is downstairs, and Harry has nothing. He has no idea what to do. He has planned nothing. He can't ask anyone. He's still… still trying to push back the part of him that's mourning.

Harry scrapes a hand through his hair and staggers back until the back of his knees hit the bed and he drops onto it. "I  _died_  and then you gave me ten minutes to pick a new world. I have been here for less than two days, could we just – please just  _slow the fuck down_?!"

Death peers at Harry, expression almost expectant as the wizard finally realises what's happening.

"I  _died_ ," Harry chokes out. "I fought so hard to even get to eighteen and I still lost everything…" He falls back and grinds the heels of his hands into his stinging eyes.

Harry breathes in through his nose and out of his mouth until his body stops shaking. It doesn't take long to stifle it, he's old friends with the concept of his death. He's not okay, but he's a professional at blocking it all out until the job is over, and then he can drown under it all for a good few days.

A weight pushes down the mattress near Harry's waist as Death sits down.

"I grabbed onto this idea and just ran with it," Harry admits shakily. "Do you want to know what the plan is? The actual plan?"

Harry drops his arms to the bed and looks at Death. "I was going to distract myself with wandering around, finding nice couples to be my friends, and then when Voldemort gets to Hogwarts I was just going to tell Dumbledore. Just pass it on. Of course I would help, but I  _died_  before I could get to twenty-two so  _clearly_  I don't have the ability to keep a child alive."

Death hums. "There is a slight problem with that."

Harry closes his eyes and braces. "Hit me."

"When you first had the choice of a new world, you only specified that Tom Riddle must be a young child not yet in Hogwarts," Death summarises. "I gave you more."

"More… what?" Harry asks slowly.

"More Dark Lords," Death continues. "You have several to choose from in this world. For instance, there was no need to ask me about pulling Gellert Grindelwald from his time because he is already a child. Here. In the downstairs bathroom."

Harry sits up.

"This shift in history means that several other sequences that you know from your world are in fact different." Death gestures vaguely to the world outside the window. "Little things like trees growing where they hadn't been before, new buildings sprouting up, Albus Dumbledore being a Dark Lord, more butterflies-"

Harry holds up a hand and Death cuts himself off. "You are… actually enjoying this, aren't you?"

Death's smile stretches too wide for a human's face. "You've already made it this far. Would you really turn back now?"

Harry stares at that macabre grin for a long time.

Then he pushes his glasses up and stands. Nothing matters anyway. He's dead. His friends are all gone. He's definitely not in the right mentality to take care of a child. Two children, apparently.

But he can't possibly do any worse, right? No matter what he does, the Dark Lord ending is literally the bottom of the drop. There are pretty much no consequences when you think of it like that.

Take it slow, one step at a time.


End file.
